Alternate Reality I

ALTERNATE REALITY

The Angel Aleilah Series
                       
© MELINDA REYNOLDS 2008/2010



I

         Eden.


Abandoned eons ago by the Creator of Man, yet frequented by His angels and archangels, no sentient life remained in the Garden.  As Mankind was no longer permitted to enjoy the wonders of Eden, its Tree of Life perpetually guarded by the Cherubim with the Flaming Sword, the remainder of Eden lay, lush and fruitful, awaiting Man’s return. Until that happened, God’s Sons of Light visited the Garden often; it was as close to Earth as many of them would ever experience.


Near the crystal river that flowed through Eden, several Angel Warriors gathered in a wide circle. Adriel and Matafiel stood in the front ranks, while Liftheon watched from a point further away. The other Warriors formed small groups behind Adriel and Matafiel, watching with great interest something they rarely saw: A contest between Heaven’s most powerful Warriors.


In full armor and armament, Archangel Michael and Angel Mihdael, his Lt. Commander, were indulging in one of their favorite, if rare, pastimes: trying their best to hack each other to pieces.


Or that was how it appeared to the Angel Aleilah, who watched them with trepidation. She turned anxious eyes to her companion, the ebony skinned Angel Warrior Liftheon. “Good Heavens, Liftheon, are you certain they are not angry with each other? And why is Michael not using his own sword?” The Archangel’s sword flared with brilliant orange flame against Mihdael’s blue-white blade.


“They are not angry with each other, Little One.  Michael uses Adriel’s sword because he does not want to harm Mihdael in case he should score a hit. The Sword of the Archangel is very dangerous, and can cause irreparable injury.”


His words did little to ease her misgivings. Although she knew of the great love and respect these warriors had for each other, at the moment such love and respect was completely absent. “They are so… fierce and… determined.” She watched more closely as swords clanged and shields clashed, “Liftheon, they are  trying to cut each other!”


Blue-black curls fell loosely around his face and shoulders as he looked down at her, puzzled, “Well, of course  they are each trying for the first cut; that is the whole point.” He grinned suddenly.


Aleilah punched him lightly on his muscled arm, “Not only was that comment wretched, but … disquieting as well…”


“How so?”


“How can they be such close friends, yet still be so willing to cut each other to pieces? Several, tiny, little pieces…” she added, frowning.


Liftheon shrugged, his great golden wings lifting slightly as he did so. He couldn’t understand her concern, or her disapproval. “They are practicing, Leea. They have  to be just as determined, just as deadly, during practice as they would be when going up against an actual threat.


“You need not fear for them. Even if they are injured, the wound would be healed immediately; and a lesson learned – not to let your opponent repeat it. Injuries are not for punishment or an indication of inferiority; injuries serve to point out where a warrior’s weakness lies, and to correct it.


“Michael is the only Warrior more powerful and skillful than Mihdael. They love these contests. Mihdael always gains greater skill and speed; and Michael, too, learns that he must always be on his guard. For either of them to score a hit against the other is very rare; they usually achieve a stalemate. Michael would never use his greater strength and power to defeat Mihdael.  In fact, he has only done that once in all Time that I am aware of.”


“But, Liftheon, such fights usually end with the death of the enemy.  How will this … contest… end?”


Liftheon smiled.  “It will end when Michael is ready for it to end.”


That, Aleilah decided, did not sound very reassuring.


***
Aleilah smiled a warm welcome as Michael and Mihdael joined her and Liftheon. This time, thankfully, neither Warrior had suffered an injury from indulging in their ‘favorite pastime’. She looked at them, mystified, shaking her head, "I can not understand how you can enjoy  hacking each other to pieces."


"Hah!" Mihdael laughed, "He should be so lucky. He has not so much as touched  me with his sword for …" He paused, making a comical effort at deep thought, "For such a long period of time that I cannot calculate it."


"Are you having problems counting beyond 20 again, Mihdael?" Michael gave him a wry look, "Perhaps Liftheon would lend his fingers and toes to aid your … ‘calculation’."


"I would say at least five or six millennia, Commander," Mihdael grinned at him with impertinence.


"Do not exaggerate, Mihdael," Michael cautioned, more serious than jocular. "Five thousand, eight hundred, and sixty-three, to be exact."


"Oh, yes, Mihdael, we must always  be exact," Aleilah punched him lightly on his upper arm, "No exaggerations, no omissions; the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but."


"Speaking of which, Aleilah, I have been meaning to speak to you about that very thing."


Some of the amusement faded from her sparkling violet eyes. "What thing?"


"Your unfortunate tendency to…" He paused, not wanting to start a shouting match. "You have a remarkable facility for … telling less than the truth."


"Lie, you mean."


"Yes. I have found it wiser to refrain from lying as much as possible, no matter how small. One lie invariably leads to another, and yet another – continuing onward until you lie just to support the ‘belief’ in the earlier lies. It can be dangerous, and ultimately cause more problems than the truth would have."


"Michael, in my job, when dealing with humans, it is impossible  to be 100% truthful at all times. Sometimes the complete truth will start  wars rather than avoid them.


"I have never lied while in Heaven—"


He looked at her.


"Hardly  ever…" she amended, grinning mischievously. “After all, I suppose, truthfully, you cannot all  be the most gorgeous, the most brilliant, the most… magnificent.”


That achieved amused expressions from the Angel Warriors.


"’Tis not amusing, Little One; believing it to be so only emphasizes what I have been saying."


"As long as I accomplish my mission, and no one is harmed, the ‘wherefores’ and ‘hows’ should not matter. Why should it matter to you?"


Michael fell silent for a few moments, and then he took Aleilah’s arm and gently moved her away from the two warriors, and spoke quietly to her. "I find it distressing. No good can ever come from lying. I only wanted to caution you, to make certain you are aware of the possible consequences…"


“Yes, Commander.” She said. Her smile had faded completely and she was no longer amused.


“Do not be angry. I was only--”


“I am not  angry. I am following your orders as my superior Heavenly Host. Is that not what you want?”


“No; I want you to understand me, and act accordingly.”


“That is what I am doing. I understand what you are saying. I will not hide anything anymore – except that which can embarrass you, of course—“


“I have not asked you to lie about anything concerning me. If any were to ask, I would expect you to be truthful.”


She rolled her eyes, “Of course! Straight-forward and up front, whatever you say!” She kept her voice and expression carefully neutral as she continued. “I will have to find some other technique for performing my duties. Do you have any suggestions for defusing an explosive situation when I point out all their faults and foibles with words of truth?”

“Aleilah, please, I was not--”


“Never mind, Michael. Do not fret so. I shall never lie again.” She sighed and walked away. Everyone tells me what to do, but no one tells me why.


Michael watched her walk off, frowning. She usually left him with a smile, or at least a warm glimmer in her eyes that only he could interpret. He did not like seeing her leave without it.


Mihdael came up next to him, speaking quietly. “Do not worry, Commander. She will understand your point of view eventually. She just needs to get there on her own terms. You know Leea…”


“Yes, I do.” And I would rather she were smiling. Michael’s primary wings extended, preparatory to flight. "I must check on the guard posts along the upper regions. Mihdael," he commented, then added, "Come with me; you can check on the lower regions."


After they had left, Aleilah turned questioning eyes on Liftheon. "Why is he so stubborn and stuffy? Sometimes I have to fib a bit. He should understand that. There is a difference between the small lies that get my job done, and malicious lies that intend to harm."


"Before your time, Little One," Liftheon’s amber eyes looked at her sadly. "Michael dislikes lying of any kind. Not because he is being critical or officious; but because a few lies nearly brought down Heaven’s Army."


He stretched, flexed his wings; he smiled down at her, “I should be at the Armory; Mihdael asked me to make certain the weapons were in perfect condition. This little ‘contest’ got me sidetracked. I had best see to it.”


“Can I come with you?”


“Of course, Leea, I would enjoy your company.”


II



“Liftheon, tell me about it… the War in Heaven,” she looked over at him persuasively from where she sat on one of the low marble tables. “I have been so curious to know, ever since Mihdael mentioned it back on Earth, when we fought the Fake Four and found Michael injured. What was he referring to? You said it had been an accident, but he did not seem to agree with you. What was it about?”


“It…would not be my place, Aleilah; such events are very … personal to both Michael and Mihdael. They  should be the ones to tell thee, not me.”


“How could I ever broach such a subject to them? Especially something as painful to them as you say this is. What could I say without upsetting them, or angering them?


“You have hinted to me many times that things were not always peaceful between them. Please, tell me what happened.  Everyone else knows all about it; everyone but me.  I would not want to … inadvertently say or do something to upset either of them due to my ignorance of their history.” Her tone grew persuasive, and she gazed at him demurely from under long, thick lashes, “Tell me how a few innocent lies could bring about the destruction of Heaven’s Army.”


“ ‘A few innocent lies’? Such a thing does not exist, Little One.


“Very well. I will tell thee; but knoweth, too, that I can give thee only my  point of view of those events. Michael and Mihdael could tell thee much more; and only God knows all  the particulars.


“Will that be enough for thee?”


“Yes,” she gave him a teasing smile, “for now…”


Liftheon smiled sadly at her enthusiasm. While her innocence and curiosity was charming, she knew nothing about how serious the situation had actually been.


“It is unfortunate that you did not know Lucifer before he Fell. He was… majestic. God favored him above all the Heavenly Host, and loved him more than any other being He had created. Lucifer was the LightBringer, the MorningStar; he shone brightly, his beauty resplendent and unequalled. And, Aleilah, his kindness and gentle nature equaled that beauty, but did not surpass it; only his pride surpassed his beauty…”


“When did the trouble start? With Lucifer, I mean.”


“All  the problems, the conflicts, started just before the creation of Mankind. It escalated shortly thereafter, when God commanded all angels to worship and serve Man as they did God. Even Mihdael was shaken by the discontentment among some of the warriors; he looked to Michael, as we all did. Michael was the first angel to kneel to Man and acknowledge Man as he acknowledged God. All of us followed suit, but some did not take such acknowledgement to their hearts and souls.


“Satan was displeased, and would not accept God’s Decree to serve Mankind. She recruited Lucifer to her cause, and I know not how she achieved this. Lucifer, in turn, sought out Mihdael. I know of this, for Mihdael told me of it much later. Lucifer wished for Mihdael to join the Rebellion, to serve as the Commander of the Heavenly Army…”


“But… Michael is Commander; and he would not give up such a command. How could Lucifer hope to do this?”


Liftheon shook his head. “I do not know. But Lucifer felt he could accomplish it – or that Mihdael could do so. Mihdael was torn between them: Lucifer, God’s Favored Archangel, was his close friend and counselor; and Michael, Prince of Light, was his Commander and brother angel. He loved both; he could understand the viewpoints of both Archangels – yet he was being asked to choose between them. He ultimately chose neither of them, choosing to remain loyal to God.


“Because Mihdael would not verbally reject Lucifer, Michael did not trust him, and doubted his loyalty due to his continued close association to the MorningStar. But while Michael doubted him, Lucifer sought to gain him as an ally; Mihdael treated them as equally as he could, for as long as he could. Lucifer did not fault Mihdael’s loyalty to Michael, yet our Commander felt he could not trust Mihdael not  to turn against God and Heaven. He brought Mihdael before the Holy Trinity for Judgment, fully prepared to carry out his execution if so ordered.”


“No! Michael would not do that!”


“I can only tell you what happened, Aleilah; I cannot tell you the individual reasons behind it.” He considered for a moment, “Yet, I have to say, that I could not perceive any guilt in Mihdael, and, neither could God. He was judged innocent.”


“Well, that should have settled it then.” She said, relying on the logic of her station.


“It did not. It only seemed to worsen their already tenuous relationship. On the Eve of the First Battle, Michael removed Mihdael from his position of Second-In-Command, from Command the First Legion; both were given over to me. I did not want them, Little One, but I could not refuse Michael’s orders.”


“But,” she interrupted, not understanding, “Didn’t Mihdael explain? I cannot imagine him just allowing Michael to believe the worst of him without attempting some clarification of his actions … or whatever he had done to cause Michael’s distrust of him.”


“Leea,” he laughed quietly. “We are warriors, not arbitrators! It is not our nature to question or argue our Commander’s orders.”


“Still… Of all of your Class, Mihdael is perhaps best suited to amend his skills with logic and reasoning.” Even before she finished, she realized what she had just said; fortunately, he took every few comments to heart. But the lower lip was out, letting her know he was a little bit hurt. She quickly corrected her error; her boysdid  get jealous. “And thee, Liftheon, are best suited to be the most congenial…”


“’Congenial’, Leea?” He put the damaged lance aside, and held his hands before him; he raised his left hand upward, even with his chest. “Logical warrior.” He then lowered the right hand, near his waist, obviously weighing the compliments. “Congenial warrior.” His amber eyes looked at her, letting her know there was no comparison.


She tried again, “The most vigorous?” The right hand raised slightly, but was still less than halfway to the left one.


“Oh, for—” She rolled her eyes, and said flatly, “The best looking.


With a grin, his right hand lifted past his left, level with his nose. She had to laugh, and gave him a quick, playful hug. “As far as I’m concerned, Liftheon, you are hands above everyone else.”


She disengaged, settling back on the balustrade. Repairing the damaged lance, he replaced it, and chose another one. Inspecting it carefully, the AngelFire swirled around the lower half, as he strengthened it. The lances were usually the first to break in battle, and he always endeavored to temper them with God’s Fire.


“But you were saying, Angel? Did Mihdael at least try  to placate Michael with words?"


Finishing with the lances, he moved to inspect the longbows. “He did, at first; but Michael turned his words against him, refused to believe anything he had to say in his defense. In time, Mihdael did not bother; he hoped his actions would prove what his words could not. Michael was… It is difficult to explain, even now; even when I look back – knowing all I know now…  It was if Michael could not  let himself be swayed by anything that Mihdael told him. That he could not risk… being wrong .”


“Michael is not  infallible, Liftheon.”


“But he felt he had to be infallible; he was… resolute, unyielding. Sometimes I think Michael compared himself to God, and Mihdael to Lucifer – not in a blasphemous way, but as Lucifer was to God, Mihdael was to Michael. It was the only way I could reconcile Michael’s distrust and antagonism toward Mihdael.


“Michael sent him to the forefront of the battle lines; he had only a volunteer battalion to support him. I also volunteered; I would have volunteered the entire First Legion for him. But Mihdael would not allow it. He did not want me to incur Michael’s wrath as well; and he insisted that the First Legion needed a capable and able commander.


“And Michael… he was so certain  of Mihdael’s betrayal, he never saw the danger in his own ranks. He had asked of all the Warriors, ‘Wilt thee stand with me in defense of God and Heaven against Satan and Lucifer, and all that serve them?’  Every one answered ‘yes’; and of them, one-third lied. Michael did not see this; yet, I, too, was blind to the traitors within our ranks.”


“There were…” her voice faltered for once, the amusement gone. She looked at him, shocked, not believing it could be so. “There werethat  many?”


“Yes, Little One.”


“Nothing could be done? To sway them, I mean?”


“I know not of swaying. I only know that to walk with God is to be on the side of Righteousness. Maybe, due to your station, you see ‘swaying’ as an asset; but Lucifer did, too, you see. He mislead many, and swayed them to rebel”


She fell silent.  First I am a liar, and now I deceive, like Lucifer. Father, I am confused…


Liftheon noticed her downcast eyes, and cupped her chin in his hand. “Leea, look at me.”


She looked up, saddened.


“I did not mean that as you have taken it. Do not be hurt,” he said gently. “Any skill can be applied for the good or the evil. I am a fighter. I attack, defend, and kill when necessary. Demons do the same.


“The dividing line is what – and Who – we do it for.”


She smiled softly, and Liftheon continued, lowering his large frame on the banister next to her.


“The first attack came in a solid wave of demons and renegade angels. Mihdael and his volunteers were the vanguard of our defense.  Michael waited, to see which way Mihdael would go; I stood ready to assist, but could do naught until Michael commanded it. Our best warriors followed Mihdael; except for myself, all  the Sentinels were with him, and nearly one thousand warriors. We faced an enemy ten times the size of our combined Legions.


“Would that you could have seen that first clash, the first onslaught.” His eyes brightened at the distant memory, at the proficiency of his young Commander.  “Mihdael felled nearly a quarter of the enemy, with the flanking defense of Mirihael and Matafiel. They were wondrous to behold…” The light faded from his eyes, and he looked down. “Then… something happened. I know not what. The enemy fell back temporarily, regrouped, and attacked again. But this time, none of the enemy engaged Mihdael in battle…”


“Well, I don’t blame them—”


He cut her off. “You do not understand. The enemy not only avoided confronting him, they avoided harming  him. He led the vanguard; he should have been the demons’ first target. I remember seeing Michael smiling grimly, as if his suspicions were finally being proven correct: The enemy would not harm Mihdael because he was one of them.   I saw it differently; I saw Lucifer’s devious mind in action. If Mihdael would not join with the MorningStar in the Rebellion, then Lucifer would see to it that Mihdael would be disgraced and dishonored – not only before God and Michael, but before his own command as well.


“Michael was not willing to lose the volunteers, and he ordered his own Legion and the First Legion to join in the battle. I know very little of what happened to either of them, for I was occupied with my own Legion. But I saw part of it; I saw Mihdael fly toward Michael’s back, sword raised. As the Archangel was outnumbered three to one, I had thought Mihdael was flying to his defense. I could not spare them much attention, for I had my own foes to contend with. When next I looked, Michael was falling toward the ground below, his shoulder a bloody mess and his primary wing nearly cut in half. Mihdael was right behind him, and his sword was bloodied, although he himself was unmarked.”


Slyphia winced at his words. The thought of Michael, her beloved warrior, so terribly injured… She reached out, gripping his forearm tightly, “Liftheon, was that what Mihdael was referring to, when he said that he…” she let the sentence die, unable to believe that Mihdael would strike so brutally at his Commander.


“Yes. I did not know at the time, but Mihdael told me later that he had meant to defend Michael from an attacking demon. A demon only Mihdael had seen… I believed he thought it was there, for Mihdael has never lied.  Michael did not believe him, and saw it as another act of betrayal on Mihdael’s part. Whether the demon was actually there or not was irrelevant; the damage… to both  of them, was done.


“The fearsome blow Mihdael had intended for the demon fell instead on Michael. Lucifer’s scheme to discredit him was brilliant, and deadly; he turned our best warriors against each other. And if Mihdael had been of the same temperament as Michael, Lucifer’s scheme may have worked.”


She was sickened that Lucifer’s brilliant intellect had turned to such destruction, and how his clever, devious manipulations had nearly destroyed two beings she loved dearly. She listened raptly as he continued.


“I dispatched my opponents quickly, and dove to their aid. Another demon was following them, and I intercepted it; I chose to fight a known enemy rather than an uncertain one. When I finished, they were on the ground, facing each other; I could hear Michael’s angry voice, could see his fury.  Still wounded, he attacked Mihdael; again, I was about to intercede when God’s Voice thundered over us. He commanded Michael to stop, saving Mihdael’s life at the last possible moment. Michael obeyed, but even from where I hovered, I could see he was not convinced of Mihdael’s innocence or loyalty.


“The entire War was fought that way. Mihdael was at the forefront of every battle, his warriors fought valiantly; very few of Mihdael’s volunteer legion was lost. The very worst part, however, was when the traitors within Michael’s army revealed themselves; they turned on the loyal warriors next to them… and… killed them…”


He paused, head lowered and eyes closed; it was a scene he never wanted to witness again. The bold treachery within Michael’s army was chilling and demoralizing – just as Lucifer knew it would be.  Only the well-trained reflexes and ingrained loyalty of the Angel Warriors prevented the ambush from becoming a massacre; and even more of Michael’s warriors were destroyed -- both Faithful and Fallen…


“And it all started,” he finished finally, looking at her gravely, “with a few, ‘harmless lies’, and lies of omission…”


III

Alone for a change in the restful Garden, Michael and Aleilah relaxed in the pleasant serenity of each other’s company. Whatever was bothering her earlier had seemed to pass, for she beamed at him the moment she saw him.


“You are not angry?” He had asked, holding her hands as he helped her down to the grass, “For I was worried…”


“No, Liftheon explained much to me.” She smiled up at him.


He frowned, and sat next to her. “I would have… I should  have done as such.”


“Do you mind that he did?”


“No, it is not that,” he smiled softly, “I was abrupt, and thinking of my duties. I did not handle it well, and I upset you. “


“Michael! You did not upset me; I’m not a fragile creature, I can take it…” Slyphia laughed, and pushed him back to his elbows gently, “If you had upset  me, do you think I would be here?”


“No,” he said slyly, looking deep into her  violet eyes, “You would have holed up somewhere, pouting, and made me come find you. And I would had to humbly offer my apologies, and feel extreme guilt for having told you the truth.” His sparkling eyes belied the serious tone of his words.


“Damn straight.”


He laughed, not at all sure that it was resolved, but at least something had gotten straightened out with Liftheon. Michael was not going to push things with her. If Aleilah wanted to discuss it further, she knew he would be there for her. He also knew that she eventually would  want to talk about it.


Besides, he really didn’t enjoy lecturing her anymore. It gave him very little satisfaction. She was not one of his warriors. She was self-reliant and did her job well without his hovering input. He had never considered that about her before, but now he wanted to share everything she did. Which usually meant getting his opinion whether it was requested or not. He smiled to himself; it did keep things lively between them.


Michael lay back on the thick, lush grass, his wings folded under him like a feathered blanket. His eyes closed against the warm sunlight, the light caress of the gentle wind lulled him into a sense of complacency, and he was content to do absolutely nothing. He had even removed his sword belt, and placed on the ground next to him; for a few minutes, at least, he would not feel its awesome power and be reminded of his station.


Aleilah sat at his side, the cool breeze lifting her hair from her back, and rustling through her wings. Her gaze fell on the sword lying on the ground between them, and she reached out, touching the glowing ruby hilt lightly. Even at that faint contact, she felt the powerful reverberations course up her fingertips, into her arm, into her very being. Raw energy, sheer power – a force of the Universe that she had never experienced before; the small energy arcs were nearly overwhelming, and the sword was still sheathed in the protective scabbard. She shuddered to think what it would feel like fully drawn.

“Aleilah,” Michael’s voice drifted to her, not demanding or alarmed, but with a note of caution, “be careful with that, my love.” He hadn’t opened his eyes, somehow knowing  she had touched the sword.


At her silence, he opened his eyes, and rose up on one elbow, looking at her closely. She was tracing the design on the hilt with one fingernail, brows drawn together. He rarely saw her so thoughtful and  quiet. “What is the matter, Little One?’


Her fascinated gaze remained on the sword, “I never really knew what kind of power this weapon had. Are you ever uncomfortable, as its keeper?”


“No, it is my duty to bear it.”


“Michael,” she looked at him steadily, “for a moment, stop being a Commander, and just be an Angel of God. Are you not humbled by the faith God has in your abilities? Does it not give you a sense of awe, carrying this power with you every moment of your existence?”


He sat up, taking her hand away from the hilt. “I am impressed with the raw power of this weapon. But… awed? And you speak of humility…” Leaning toward her, he took both of her hands into his own. “I am awed  by God’s capacity to love, even for those who have Fallen. I am humbled  in the presence of your beauty, my Angel…”


She blushed, “Mi-chael …”


Straightening, he placed one hand on the hilt of the sword. “But this… this  is a weapon of destruction. It is the wrathful Hand of God Himself. To wield it with humility would be a mistake. I am respectful  of it, and of the decision that He has chosen me to wield it to His Will.”


Aleilah looked down at the sword, still not appeased.


He tilted his head, trying to see her face more clearly.  “What troubles you, Angel?”


She looked above them, at the fluffy clouds and the brilliant blue sky. An errant gust of wind kicked up her hair, and she finally turned to him with a small smile. “What can possibly trouble me, when all is right in Heaven and Eden?”


Michael opened his arms, a silent invitation. She snuggled comfortably against his armor, her wings drawn down, folding gently over his powerful arms.


For a time, at least, all was right in her world.



IV


Aleilah wandered aimlessly along the well-trod path that she had worn through the flowering trees and shrubs of Eden. The finicky Cherubim, she noted happily, were nowhere to be found.  When she came around the bend to the towering waterfall, she discovered why. The Cherubim deferred to only one being in Heaven other than Archangel Michael; and he stood a few feet away, revealed in all his gorgeous glory. She had not meant to intrude, or sneak up on him – although he would not interpret her presence as an intrusion.


He obviously just left the waterfall, his thin white under tunic clinging to his muscular body in all the right places. She smiled, watching as the AngelFire started at the top of his head and descended slowly down to his bare feet. His Light shimmered, then glowed brightly as he dried off completely. He strapped on the sandals, his back still to her; she didn’t want to interrupt just yet…


His golden armor lay propped up against a large tree trunk, but his sword was still strapped over his hips. He was never, it seemed, without that.  Instead of retrieving the armor, he sat down on a smooth boulder, and brought his beautiful white wings around before him. They, too, were dry, but the feathers were all fluffed out, not lying flat and smooth like they should be. She came around the screening shrubbery, thinking another wave of AngelFire would be coursing down the wings to smooth them out.


He looked up at her approach, smiling warmly, “Good morning, Leea,” Mihdael was one of the few angels that still used archaic terms as ‘morning’, ‘evening’, and ‘night’ while in Eden. For Eden was the only place within the perimeters of Heaven that was dark at night, and had a definite dusk and dawn.


“I was not expecting to see you here, Warrior.  Who guards Earth?”


He laughed quietly. “I do  have some free time of my own, Little One. Sometimes I spend it here, sometimes," he shrugged, “elsewhere…”


“What are you doing?” She approached closer. He held something – or seemed to be. Then she saw it was concentrated AngelFire, formed into a large comb and gliding through the ruffled feathers, smoothing each one down. The feathers interlocked together once more, glowing with a soft, bluish light.


“I got the idea from our last visit to Earth,” Mihdael smiled wryly. “It feels just as good on my wings as it did on my hair. AngelFire is very effective, and quicker; but I am here to relax.”


She watched with amusement as he gave extra attention to the large, long primary feathers. They fanned out in a wide curve, and the golden AngelFire ‘comb’ swept the length of each one, making them perfect once again. She looked at the ones in the back, closest to his shoulders. He couldn’t see or reach those.


“I’ll get the ones in the back, if you like.”


“Yes,” he said eagerly, “I can never reach those. I usually just let them go. They straighten out eventually.”


Copying the one he was using, she formed her own ‘comb’ and started at the matted coverts where the wing joined his shoulder blade.

He sighed softly, his wings rippling gently.  “That feels… great …”


She laughed.  “Then I will have to remember that for when Michael gets all grumpy and out of sorts.”


He laughed with her.  “You will have to work three times as hard.”


After a few moments of silence, Aleilah commented casually, “It is so much nicer – and more peaceful – without those buzzing Cherubs around.”


He nodded absently, working on the other wing; he lowered both wings nearly to the ground so she could reach the smaller feathers in the curve of the arches. “Cherubiel is still guarding the Tree of Life, of course; and the other one, Sarriel, kept following me around, telling me not to do this or not to do that. They behave as if I am going to pick up the entire Garden and fly off somewhere with it. Sarriel finally left when I flew into the waterfall. However, I am not certain if it’s distaste for water sent him away, or if Michael’s sudden appearance chased it off.”


“Michael? He was here?” She ran her hand absently over the smooth coverts on the left arch; each of the small feathers glowed with a faint bluish light at her touch.


“Hmmm. Just long enough to let me know that he would be at the First Gate until further notice. You know,” he looked over his shoulder at her, “sometimes I think the great and powerful Cherubim are actually afraid  of my Commander.”


“Gee, I cannot imagine why.” She kept her voice and manner light, the fond memory of Michael’s last run-in with Cherubiel flashing across her mind. That ‘great and powerful’ Cherubim had retreated from the Archangel with considerable respect and fear.  “Mihdael… do you  fear Michael?”


He laughed outright at that. “No. Certainly not.”


"Why? I mean, everyone else seems to, to some extent or another."


"Yes, that is one of the things that has always troubled him.” His powerful shoulders shrugged, his wings lifting slightly. “I respect him for the power he has, and I admire him for his integrity; but I have never  feared him, Aleilah. How could I? Does not his very name  reveal his true nature?"


She finished the arches, moving down to the secondaries. Well,that,I suppose, explains why I like him so much. More at ease, she continued, "But were you always so… comfortable  around him?"


His wing stiffened, and his voice lost all amusement, with such suddenness and completeness, that it startled her. "Why would you ask that?"


She hesitated. "I… It’s just that… I know how he can be at times. You hardly ever seem to be upset, or angered by what he says or does.


"I was, well… wondering—"


"What  were you ‘wondering’?" A hard edge underlined his level tone.


"I was just wondering if you …had always… gotten along so well with him…" She tried not to stammer, but she had never  gotten this reaction from him.


The wing jerked from her grasp, and he lurched to his feet, turning and glaring down at her, "To whom have you been talking?" His cold gaze swept over Eden, toward the Gate. "You have not been talking to Lucifer, have you? Have I not warned you of his evil and malignant nature?"


"I have not… I did not speak to Lucifer. I would never heed his deceitful words."


"You mentioned the Cherubim earlier. Was it one of them, trying to dredge up events that have long since been laid to rest?"


"It was not anyone …asking me. It was… me; I was talking to Liftheon." She felt she had to admit at least that much, to keep him from going after some innocent party.


"You, Leea…?” Surprise widened his eyes briefly, then acrimony narrowed them again. “Why? What would you want to know from Liftheon?"


He was angry; she could recognize it in his eyes because she had never seen it there before -- not directed at her. "I asked him about the War in Heaven, and--” She had to stop herself from actually backing away from him; the absolute knowledge that he would never physically harm her was little comfort at the moment,  “and about you and…Michael--"


"And what did he tell you?" His voice grew even colder, and quieter, hard lines settling into his normally pleasant features.


"I only wanted to know -- to understand -- what everyone else in Heaven already knew, Mihdael.  I felt... left out; and I was ... curious--"


"'Curious '!?! Do you not think that if I had wanted  thee to know such things, Angel I would have discussed it with thee myself!?" He stepped back from her, drawing his wings to him. "Wouldst thou have such behavior from me  as well, as concerns thee? Never have I allowed 'curiosity' to drive me to pry into your  past; to go behind your back and seek out events that you prefer not to think about, or be reminded of.  Thinkest thou art the only one with painful memories?


"I honored and respected your privacy, Aleilah.” The anger abated for a moment, replaced by uncomprehending bitterness.  “Could you not have done the same for me?" He moved further away from her, his distance and manner shutting her out. “Do you have any consideration for the feelings of others; or, are such considerations reserved only for yourself?”


She could only stare at him, completely astounded. Kind, gentle, unassuming, understanding  Mihdael was suddenly gone, replaced by this cold, distant stranger. The white wings snapped back and up, with a brilliant flash of white-gold Light; when it faded, he was fully dressed in the heavier white tunic, blue cloak, and armor. He placed more than one barrier between them.


She tried to apologize, his disappointment with her more unbearable than his anger.  “Mihdael, please… I had no idea. I am sorry I did not come to you first. What would you have me do, to atone for my thoughtlessness?”


"Something I fear that is impossible  for you to do." He turned his back to her, wings extending to catch the warm breeze.


"What?! Tell me!"  She reached out, intending to touch his wings. He couldn’t just leave like this.


He didn’t bother to keep the contempt out of his voice.  "Mind your own business."


The beautiful wings lifted him easily into Eden’s turquoise sky; and he ascended quickly as her voice called after him.  "Wait, Mihdael… please! Where are you going?!"


"Away from you."


She stared after him, and then she found herself alone.


Aleilah sank to the ground, confused. She hadn’t meant to hurt Mihdael, or prod Liftheon, or hide her confusion from Michael. Yet all these things had happened, and quickly.


She and Michael had already gotten back on track quickly, even if she had not asked him things she probably should have. She had fought, bitterly even, with him for longer than she could remember. They’d had a cold war of sorts going on for ages – until they made up. She and Liftheon had made it tradition to pick at each other, but it was never serious and they were too close not to know that. She treasured the dark Angel. She even felt protective of him.


Mihdael, however, was another story altogether. Slyphia could not recall one time when he had ever been angry with her, and he had never teased her, or ignored her, or made her feel inadequate. Mihdael introduced her to Eden. Mihdael taught her to fight with a dagger. Mihdael was her strong, big brother - he lessened her fears in the face of the enemy.


Because of his close association with Earth and his time with Elena, he was the one Angel that had understood her more than any other.  Now that he knew quite a bit about her entire  past, he understood her even better. She wanted only to do the same with him. She had not meant for him to consider her actions as prying, and she felt horribly guilty that he had.


Just like the blond warrior, she was too confused and hurt to think straight now. There was only one being she could go to for help. He would either straighten things out, or He would find the means to help her do so herself.


V

              Mihdael’s golden-white form flashed across Eden’s sky, toward Heaven. He tried to push back all the forgotten memories, to push them back into their individual compartments and lock them away. It hurt; more than any anger he could feel and express, it still hurt. He had dealt with it all so many thousands of centuries ago, had gotten through it somehow; no, he knew how – God’s faith in him got him through it. Much later, Michael finally realized, and acknowledged, his errors in judgment, and returned everything that had been taken from him, and more. The bond between them was stronger than ever, forged in flames of trust and honed with mutual respect and love. It had not been easy, yet he would not change it for anything.


             However, that did not mean he wanted to relive any part  of the second worst period of his existence. And, he was just proud enough not to want Leea think less of him, because of his ill-considered actions in the past. Her ignorance of the more unfortunate aspects of his past was like a clean slate for him; a new start, after atoning for his mistakes. Now, her newly found knowledge made him feel ashamed, and angry; the more he thought about it, the more the anger grew until it supplanted the shame. And he knew exactly where to direct it...


              It wasn’t difficult to locate his Second-in-Command. He knew Liftheon was checking the Armory, and Mihdael alighted just outside the elaborate archway leading to the Armory just as the big, dark angel secured the weapons. Liftheon looked at him, very innocent, very matter-of-fact – just business as usual. Could it be that he actually had no idea …?


               “Liftheon…” He spoke quietly as the Warrior took flight.


               “Yes, Commander?” Liftheon paused, a few feet above the atrium that ran between the arched colonnade and the Armory.


               Mihdael crooked a finger at him, motioning him to land. Puzzled, Liftheon alighted and approached the archway.


               As soon as he was within reach, Mihdael caught his arm. “Aleilah tells me you were giving her a history lesson.”


               Liftheon smiled broadly, which did nothing for Mihdael’s simmering temper. “Yes, she wanted to know about the War in Heaven. She was especially interested you and Michael, and … how … uhhh…” He trailed off, finally realizing he might be in trouble.


               “By the Gates of Hell, Liftheon, did it not occur to you to send one, simple  thought my way?” He pulled back a bit, mimicking Liftheon’s voice, “ ‘Oh, by the way, Mihdael, I am going to reveal to Aleilah every single detail of the worst experience of your existence. You do not mind, do you?’”


             “Uhmmmm, you would have said ‘no’?”


             “I knew  there was some  reason why I chose you as my Second!”


              Liftheon winced at Mihdael’s harsh tone. “I told Aleilah you would be… irritated.”


              “’Irritated’ ?” He grabbed Liftheon by his thick, muscled neck and brought him up hard against the metal archway. “Sand  is irritating, Liftheon; so is dust, and a high-pitched, whiney voice. This… this is just a little bit more  than irritating…”


              Mihdael forced himself to rein in his anger; releasing the big Warrior, he stepped back. Liftheon watched him warily. “You did not… you did not tell her everything, did you?”


              Liftheon looked down, then up, then to the side, anywhere but at his superior officer.


               “Oh, for the love of“" He lunged forward again, grabbed the powerful shoulders and slammed him against the archway again. “What is wrong  with you? She bats her long lashes, and you just babble away inanely? Is that it?”


              Liftheon nodded, grinning in spite of himself.  “Yes, that was pretty much it—”

***
         
         Aleilah paused just outside the main entry to the Throne Room. With careful deliberation, she smoothed her hands over her tunic, her hair; she felt  out of sorts even if she did not appear  to be. Blinking back the tears that had flowed freely from Eden to Heaven, she shook off her distress as best she could. She could have employed her AngelFire to make herself presentable to God, but doing so physically gave her a much-needed sense of … control…


         Wings back, the lower primaries well above the gold inlaid floor, she walked steadily past the two Angel Warriors guarding the entry, smiling at them briefly. The warriors - Adriel and Laviel - gazed down at her, returning welcoming smiles. Buoyed somewhat, she entered the Throne Room, letting the quiet, soothing songs of praise and prayer flow through her; by the time she reached the seven steps leading up to the Throne, she felt more composed and coherent.


         “Father,” she knelt, head bowed; there was only a slight quaver in her voice, “I hath need of Thy Counsel and Advice.”


         Rise, Daughter. I know why thou art here. What doest thee wish of Me?


         Aleilah rose, but her gaze remained downcast, her voice revealing her despair. “Oh, Father, would that Thee wouldst turn back Time, and allow me to repair the damage I have done.”


         Such would be advantageous for thee, but not a viable solution to thine present quandary. At times, Little One, thy curiosity has proven to be as detrimental to thee as pride has been to Mihdael.


         “I meant no harm, Father; and now, I know not how to … to atone for my behavior when Mihdael will not even discuss it with me.  He is so angry, and I do not know how to deal with his anger, as I have never had to do so. It is like he is a completely different entity; one with whom I cannot reason.”


         Mihdael’s feelings run deep, and he doest not suffer gladly any intrusions into the part of his past that is painful for him. Just as thee doest not suffer gladly intrusions into thine own personal history; Mihdael expects no more from thee than he wouldst do unto thee. Thee hast wounded him twofold: Once by prying, and again by not granting him the same regard and consideration as he granted thee.


         Hearing these truths from God was nearly as painful as hearing them from Mihdael.  “I am painfully aware of that now, Father.  He rejects me completely, even to the point not allowing me to offer explanations; it is,” she added, more in defense of herself than an accusation of the warrior, “so unlike him. He has never been like this…”


         God almost smiled, On the contrary, Aleilah, this is most  like him; and he has reacted thusly several times before this. But, and God’s voice became gentle and kind, taking the edge off His Words, it hast been some time since he had cause to react so; and the first time that his temper allowed his anger to supercede his affection for thee.


         Unlike Liftheon, he wilt not linger and allow thee to mollify him with soothing words; and unlike Michael, he wilt not argue the point, or demand to know thy true motives. He knowest only thine actions and the results thereof. Nothing else wilt interest, or sway, him at this point.


         “Then… What am I to do? I do not want him to think ill of me, or to believe that I was being inconsiderate, or continue to be so… upset. Nor do I want to feel such distress and guilt for what I have done. How can I affect conciliation between us? I want to, but he will not allow it; will not even speak to me about it.” 


The vivid violet eyes that had always sparkled with life and love were now dimmed with sorrow, and it troubled God to see such distress in her. Mihdael’s words had wounded as her deeply as her ill-considered questioning of Liftheon had hurt him; perhaps more so, for she loved the Warrior so completely, without restriction or reservation. There had been no malice or ill intent on her part, this He knew well. Mihdael, too, would realize it… eventually.  He was not a vindictive Angel – for such was not in his nature.          


         Even the deepest wounds wilt heal, Aleilah; most times without scars…


         “But they should not have been there at all; not if I had stopped to think, if I had listened to Theo’s cautions, if I had not insisted that he tell me anyway…” Her voice trailed off, then a sudden realization hit her, “Theo! Mihdael will be furious  with him! I have caused trouble between them as well…”


         Thee answered his questions truthfully. Liftheon alone is responsible for his actions and words, as Mihdael is responsible for his.


         “And I… I am responsible for all of it!”


         I do not like to see thee troubled, Daughter; nor do I wish my Angels to be at odds with one another. If you wish, I wilt summon Mihdael and command him to rescind his words, accept thine apology, and forgive thine transgressions against him.


         For a few moments, allowed herself the luxury of knowing that God would do just as He said He would; but she didn’t have to glance up and see the disapproval on the miens of the Cherubim Archangels to know that she wouldn’t take Him up on His offer. No, this was her  problem; she had instigated the domino-fall of angry repercussions, and she would now have to find a way to repair the damage. “As much as I would like for that to happen, Father, I   should be the one to resolve the situation, not Thee.


         “It was not only curiosity which prompted my intrusion, but lack of knowledge as well. I truly did not want to unknowingly say or do something that would cause even greater pain to either Mihdael or Michael due to my ignorance of their past association.  There have been many allusions to it: By Liftheon, the other warriors, Michael…even Mihdael himself. How I can I act effectively as either a friend or a counselor if I know nothing of what transpired between them?


         “And more, if I know nothing of what transpired in Heaven  before my creation?


         “Ignorance of events can be far more damaging than knowledge of it.”


         An interesting concept, . Yet, even without such knowledge, thee hast performed thy duties to My satisfaction. Thee needst only to temper thy curious nature by giving thorough forethought of all possible outcomes, with special attention given to each individual’s possible reactions.


         “By that time, Father, I would be of naught use, for the situation would have either solved itself, or those involved would have decimated each other.”


         God smiled faintly, Quite possible.


         The conversation had diverted her thoughts to another track; another way to help mend the rift between her and Mihdael… “I had often wondered, Father, why Thee didst not create me before the War In Heaven, before the rebellion reached the point of no return.


         “Wouldst I not have been of some aid to prevent such a war?”


         What transpired in the past was necessary. Thee couldst not have changed it; mayhap thee wouldst have made such events … more tragic; by being involved, thee couldst come to harm… or simply have delayed the inevitable outcome. I created thee at a time that I deemed to be proper, for thee to realize thy true and best purpose.


         “But still…” Her expression became pensive, as she ignored the even more disapproving looks from the Cherubim at her questioning of God’s words; as God Himself ignored them, the way He always did when allowing His Angels freedom of speculation as well as speech… “Knowing all I do now, I could avoid the pitfalls, foresee the problems, circumvent the conflicts… I could mediate and ease the tensions between the Heavenly Hosts; I could even possibly help Mihdael to either avoid or explain his problems with Michael…


“Perhaps by gaining a better understanding of Mihdael’s past, I can be better able to help him in the present…”

         

//NOTES: During Aleilah's and God's conversation, Michael has sensed the tensions, and searches for Aleilah, unable to find her.//
         
 



Aleilah?! Where art thee?


She shut her eyes to Michael’s summons, determined to not allow the influence of yet another confrontation to change her mind. The boys could very well be ripping each other apart by now, but she had to see things, as they were, for herself.


Doest thee agree to My terms, Aleilah?


“Yes, Father.”


She heard Michael’s soul calling her again from very far away, and turned her face from God for a moment, concerned.


Michael?


Your warrior calls to you, Little One?


She closed her eyes, not wanting to ignore Michael’s summons, a plea that she reply… But she was too distraught to go on without her own answers. “I cannot wait any longer, Father. Send me back, lest I lose my nerve.”


It is done.


His hand hovered briefly in front of her face, and His Perfect Light consumed her very soul. Her physical form fell into God’s massive arms; and her consciousness was no longer in the same time as she had been.

//Pick up with Michael//

Aleilah?! Where art thee?


There was no reply.


Aleilah! Answer me!


He heard her soul call his name briefly, but almost in question, and then it vanished as if she were gone.


Michael decided he would go to Eden. She said she was going to stay there for a while longer.


But in Eden, the Archangel found nothing more than the traces of AngelFire near the waterfall, and a faint trace
of Aleilah’s aura…


And Mihdael’s. He grit his teeth in anger, and flew off in search of his Lieutenant.

********************

Liftheon, trying his best not to get physical with Mihdael, let the blond warrior slam him into the archway for the third time. This was a test of wills, nothing more, for without weaponry, they could do no actual harm to one another.  “I did not think you would mind, or react so, so—”


“How did you think  I would react? What made you think  it was your place to speak of that… episode … without first asking me?! On the contrary, Liftheon, you did not think at all!”


“Mihdael! She was simply curious! It--” He straightened visibly as Mihdael finally released him, a disgusted look on his face. “It could not have done any harm.  You and Michael settled things long ago. She was concerned, and just wanted to know what happened!”


“By she  , I assume you mean Aleilah?”


Liftheon and Mihdael turned as one to face the newest member of their argument: Michael.


The Archangel stood in the opposing archway to the courtyard, fists clenched, staring them down.


Liftheon subsided in apprehension, while Mihdael stood up straight… and defiant.


“What did you do to her, Mihdael? She does not answer my calls… as if she is not even here.” His voice was hard and cold… and very quiet.


“I told her to mind her own business. She was trespassing in matters that she had no right to.”


Liftheon rubbed his eyes. This was only going to get worse.


“And in telling her to… mind her own business …” He strode forward, eyeing Mihdael like he was a fly in the last of his myrrh.  “Did you also manage to drive her off to another plane?”


“First of all, I did not drive her away; I   left her – she was still in Eden when I left. If  she ran away from Heaven, she will return. That is her modus operandi, is it not? To start a conflict, then run off; therefore causing us to turn our energies into worrying about her  and forgetting the squabble she  instigated. That  ploy will not work this time.


“Wherever she has decided to flee to, I cannot picture our Little One  surviving without our  assistance. Perhaps being away from us – from you  – will give her ample time to reflect on her serious lack of courtesy.”


Mihdael crossed his arms and glared at Michael.


The Archangel’s voice grew very quiet and cold, more so than Mihdael had heard it in a long time. He narrowed his eyes at his Lieutenant.


“Beware your choice of words, Warrior,” he growled, “Aleilah… does not use ‘ploys’; neither in her station, nor with those she loves.”


“Then ask yourself, why is it always someone else  that defends her? We have, all three of us, done so for her. Can she not do it for herself? Did I train her for naught? And if she is not in error with her actions, then why does she run away?” He was almost yelling, which was even more disquieting to Liftheon, as Mihdael rarely raised his voice when he was angry.


“Do not to be so protective  of her reputation, Commander – what are you going to do, thrash anyone who even looks  at her the wrong way? ‘The wrong way’, of course, being defined by you.”


Michael was beginning to fume. “I will protect and defend any Angel, not just Aleilah… I would do so even for Liftheon!”


         Liftheon ducked his head around Mihdael to look at Michael. “Even  Liftheon, Commander?” For some reason the dark Angel thought that statement should have been worded ‘especially’ Liftheon. Michael gave him a cold glare that told him nothing less than to butt out.


“And from what I experienced,” Mihdael continued, his eyes icy cold, “she needs to learn to think  before she talks.”


Michael growled at Mihdael, and lunged. He got a strong hand around the blond warrior’s throat and slammed him into the archway’s column, the same as Mihdael had just done to Liftheon.


Liftheon immediately placed himself between them, but the only thing that did was allow the dark Angel the chance to see what it was like being crushed between Heaven’s most powerful warriors.


“Commander!” He looked at Michael, then at Mihdael, “Lieutenant! Please!” He tried ineffectively to pry them apart. “This is not  what Aleilah wanted to have happen! She was just asking questions! Please, stop this!”


Michael took his free hand and pushed Liftheon’s face out from between them. “Keep out of this, Soldier,” he ordered curtly.


Liftheon raised his hands in frustration and backed away – but not too far.


Mihdael made no effort to free himself of Michael’s grip, his Commander’s actions more infuriating than injurious.  At the least, Michael prevented him from leaving while he was still in mortal form; at the worst, Michael would challenge him with actual combat.  Neither prospect deterred him.


“I have never  probed into her past,” Mihdael said harshly. “She had no right  to do it to me. I will not  allow interference of that nature from anyone: not from her, not from you … not anyone!”


“Mihdael,” Michael gritted through clenched teeth, “thou art my brother, and I love thee.” He tightened his grip on the blond warrior’s throat. “But where Aleilah is concerned… Do not  tempt my rage.”


“Tempt  it? I invite  it! You do not command every  aspect of my life!” He leaned forward against Michael’s grip; the Archangel’s strength kept him from escaping – if that had been his intention. Mihdael could have easily changed to his original state of pure energy and literally slip though Michael’s fingers. But that would have been a concession to the Archangel, and Mihdael had no intention of conceding to anyone. “If she cannot accept the consequences of her actions – of her ‘curiosity’,” he practically spat the word out in the Archangel’s face, “and if she must then look to you  for constant support and defense – then by all means, Commander, do not disappoint her!”


Liftheon looked with horror at both of them. He knew Mihdael would never back down from Michael; but standing up to the Archangel was one thing, challenging him to do his worst was…insanity. He began to back off as the first sparks of AngelFire danced off of Michael’s wings, formed a glowing arc to Mihdael. It bound him, instantly, and Michael released his grip on the warrior, allowing him to fall harmlessly to the ground. Blue-white arcs covered Mihdael like a net, pinning him to the ground.


Quicker than thought, Liftheon’s long, powerful arms slid under the Archangel’s inner wings, caught both his arms and pulled them behind his back. Holding Michael securely, he pulled the Archangel away from Mihdael. He spoke quietly in Michael’s ear, though his tone bore a mild threat. “Commander, I must insist that you calm down. May I remind you that you are not on a battlefield? You are in Heaven.”


Liftheon placed a heavy foot in the middle of Mihdael’s breastplate, and leaned down, barely controlling his own anger. “You have some nerve  calling me  on the carpet, when you  are the one that brought the whole thing up to begin with!”


Mihdael glared up at him, "Let. Me. Up. " Michael’s AngelFire finally dissipated, to the point where he could move a bit.


“And if I do not?” Mihdael’s armor creaked as Liftheon added a few thousand more psi.


Before Mihdael could answer, Michael interjected sharply. “Stay where you are, Lieutenant, for I will just knock you down again.” He jerked his massive shoulders, nearly throwing Liftheon from him; before he could try again, a brilliant, blinding Light appeared, surrounding them.


They blinked, and felt the air around them shift, and suddenly found themselves in the Throne Room, God before them, silent and stern.


There they were: The Commander, Lt. Commander, and Lieutenant of Heaven’s army, one locked in another one’s armlock, and that one with his foot on the one lying on the floor.


Liftheon released Michael, who shrugged him off brusquely. The dark Angel removed his foot as the white AngelFire vanished completely from Mihdael. He shook off the remnant energy effects, wings twitching irritably.


“Get up, Mihdael,” Michael gritted through clenched teeth. The Warrior got to his feet and straightened his armor.


The three of them looked around.


The Cherubim were present, buzzing uncomfortably and looking down on them; even the Seraphim were watching. Others were present, and it became evident to the three soldiers that God had brought them there, and in effect, they were interrupting whatever He had been discussing with the beings that were still present.


God rose from His throne. He walked down to them slowly, eyeing them. They began to feel very conspicuous with all the eyes on them, most especially His, and penitent for garnering His attention the way they had. There were far  better ways.


He walked around them, towering over them. Finally, after what felt like a year on Earth had passed, God faced them. Looking down on them, He said, I know thou art My Children, but must thee prove it with such puerile acts?


The Cherubim buzzed happily, and the Seraphim actually laughed.


“Father, if I may; Mih-”


Stay thy tongue, Michael.


He turned to face Liftheon.


Angel Warrior Liftheon, thou hast fought with thy brothers within the realm of Heaven. I shalt now levy thy punishment.


Mihdael stepped forward quickly, formally correct. “Father, I am Liftheon’s commander, and as such I am responsible for his actions. I will take any punishment in his stead.”

Oh? Wilt thee, Warrior? Fine. Then it shalt be as thine  punishment, Mihdael.


Ignoring both Warriors, Michael interceded, very military and proper. “Lord, I am responsible for them both.   I accept any punishment you have to administer as my own.”


God looked them over; His ‘noble’ warriors. If I follow the Chain of Command example set by thou, Angel Mihdael, then I  am responsible for all of thee, and shouldst, therefore, bear the punishment of all of thee. If I didst not know better, I wouldst say thou planned  this...


Again the Seraphim laughed.


God turned away from them, smiling out of their sight, and he ascended to His throne once again.


Thou art, in fact, just in time, for I have been discussing the Angel Aleilah’s current assignment with the Cherubim and the Seraphim.


They looked at each other.


It is a most interesting  assignment.


Michael cleared his throat. “Where is she, Father?”


The Cherubim snorted their displeasure at Michael’s informal question to Aleilah’s whereabouts. They did not approve of such familiar relationships between Angels. Particularly when it was Michael and his tendency to  ‘look after’ Aleilah. The Commander of Heaven’s army and the Guardian/Counseling Angel were nothing but trouble, most especially when they were in it together.


Her form  rests in My House, Archangel, in seclusion. It remains there until her soul returns.


Their mouths opened slightly. If she had separated her soul from her form, it was serious.


And, just so that thou art aware, her actions canst hardly be defined as ‘running away’. Indeed, she hast thrown herself headlong into this assignment.


Mihdael looked down, for that statement was definitely directed at him.



//NOTES:  feeling foolish, the warriors apologize, God gives them a token punishment, and the Angels depart. Michael, however, is concerned about Aleilah's request, and how past events could affect their current relationship//


Michael stood before Aleilah’s resting form, staring at her with his standard immobile features.


Thou art uncomfortable with what she aspires to do, Michael?


“I suppose she has to prove it to herself,” he admitted relunctantly. “Her curiosity  needs satiating.”


If thou had the chance, thou would have forbidden this?


“Yes, for having been there, I see the danger in it that she cannot. It is more than I would allow her to face, had I been the one to make the decision to let her go.” He turned his head quickly to God, “Father, I do not mean to question your sanction of--”


Hush, Michael. Thy perspective on Aleilah’s affairs is not the same as Mine.


Michael looked back at her again, stroking his upper lip with his finger.  The locket Mihdael had given her glinted in the light, the ruby in the intertwined wings a constant reminder of her love for the Archangel. 


Which danger most concerns thou?


“She will attempt to reason with Lucifer.”


She has that right, Michael.


“I do not want him  near her, Father, ever. I have endeavored to keep it that way.”


From behind him, God smiled quietly.  Is this all that concerns thou?


“No, there are other things that worry me…” he said quietly, reaching down to lightly brush his fingers against her cheek. She felt somewhat colder than normal. 


And they are?


“I shall behave indifferently towards her.”


God looked at him sympathetically. She will have full knowledge of the present, Michael. This includes thy current relationship.


“Yes, but along with her difficult challenge, she will have to live with my taciturn nature once again. And if she does approach the Fallen One… I will be too preoccupied to assist her, because I shall not take her seriously.”


Do not be so certain of her weaknesses, Archangel. Aleilah had to deal with that exact situation for several millennia before the two of thee ‘settled’ thy differences… and before thou became so protective of her.


Michael did not answer. The situation did not sit well with him. It would not sit well, no matter what.


Further, Michael, thou assumes  that thou wilt not help her. How can thou know that? She goes back a different Angel than she was; and thou wilt be a different Archangel than thou art now. There are many possibilities.


“Yes, Father.”



/



++++//Beginning of the Alternate Reality //          

         It was Heaven, but different, in small, subtle ways.  She drifted about in her pure form of lavender-white energy. She could sense the presence of more Angels and Archangels; and with awed wonder, she could sense the presence of life … in Eden. A wave of excitement swept over her. Eden! Alive and growing; full of animals and insects, of fish and fowl, and… and Adam and Eve…


         She had to see it; she had to see them. Her spirit flew quickly to the Garden of Eden, and she halted near the waterfall. Not by choice, but by what she saw – or rather, whom.  It was Mihdael, looking so much more youthful, so much more… pure and innocent; not so much by appearance as by attribute… he fairly glowed with perfection in spirit and form.


      He was not alone. Next to him was a six-winged Seraph she had never seen before; and he was beautiful. His wings were platinum white and shimmered with the essence of purity; his long hair was devoid of color, a gleaming white. His robes were long, flowing, and elegant; and his face – his features captivated her. He was … majestic; and she knew she was seeing Lucifer, the MorningStar – before his Fall. She had tried to prepare herself for this, but no amount of preparation could have lessened the effect that God’s Favored Archangel had on her.


         His golden brown eyes – like the vivid golden honey of a Tiger Eye gem - looked up at her as she descended, with deep warmth and genuine welcome. “Merry meet, Angel Aleilah,” his compelling voice caught her attention and riveted her in place. She hesitated, uncertain what to do. “Please, join us,” his smile equaled the radiance of the Light surrounding him. “I am showing Mihdael the particulars of creation – of inanimate objects, of course.”


         She alighted next to Mihdael, her translucent wingtip brushing against him. He, too, gave her a radiant smile, “How goes the mediations, Aleilah? Are the Cherubim satisfied, yet?”


         Aleilah had no idea what he was referring to, but she was obviously a known, and welcome, presence in Heaven. “I … have not heard from them yet,” she replied, conscious of her promise to Michael not to lie again. The Archangel was nowhere to be found in Eden; she would have sensed him if he was within its perimeters. Lucifer had been an unexpected, pleasant, surprise; would Michael be an unpleasant surprise?


         Lucifer gave her an elegant bow. “Well, Sweet Spirit, if they prove to be too vexing, summon me. I shall straighten them out forthwith.” Again, the dazzling smile; he was captivating, smooth and easy mannered. It was also, she realized with a start, like being with God Himself…


         She brought her thoughts back to the angels before her, listening to what they were saying.


         “See this atomic structure, here, Mihdael,” Lucifer was pointing out a nucleus to the Warrior; the atom was wobbling, not quite right. “The electron/proton count is incorrect for this crystal.”


         Mihdael frowned at the structure, and it altered at his thought. “There. Is that better?”


         “Very good! Now, for the silver…”


         “Metal is different from crystal; I am not certain—“ he began, faltering at creating the atomic structure with his AngelFire. Aleilah started to reassure him, but Lucifer leaned over, touched his arm lightly.


         “Uncertainty is not a bad thing, Mihdael; but do not let it stop you from trying.”


         The warrior smiled faintly. “I have been practicing with gold, and have achieved moderate success…”


Lucifer nodded encouragingly. “Then start with gold; and when you have mastered that, you will find the other metals much easier.”


AngelFire flared brightly, then another structure appeared; it was perfect, and Lucifer laughed heartily. “Thou art skilled in creation  as well as in warfare, Mihdael; our Father will soon have thee  creating galaxies for Him.”


         “Not likely, LightBringer; for they would all look the same. This is the only one I know how to do – He will have countless Golden Galaxies.”


         Aleilah marveled at their easy laughter and comradery; and she wondered again about Michael…



         //NOTE: the ‘Legend of Michael’s Diadem’ goes here. While Lucifer is ‘manipulating’ Mihdael to innocently form the silver and ruby diadem as a replacement for the one that Michael lost, the Archangel shows up, immediately discerns what they are doing – and erroneously thinks Mihdael knows the outcome of such an event and is being a willing part of it - and he literally explodes with anger. He destroys the nearly finished diadem, tells Mihdael to stop wasting his time on frivolous endeavors, and wants to know why he isn’t at his post. But before Mihdael can answer, Michael cuts him off sharply, relieving him of duty for not being at his assigned station. With an angry glare at all of them, Michael leaves. Mihdael looks at Lucifer and Slyphia somewhat bemused and says ‘I guess he did not care for the diadem…’  Lucifer, of course, knew that would be Michael’s reaction and was counting on it. The wedge between Michael and Mihdael was now in place; all it needed was a few, well-directed strikes… And Aleilah has her first introduction to this ‘Alternate Reality’s’ Michael…



Legend of Michael’s Diadem:  Just after the Beginning, all the Seven Archangels who stood before God were decreed as a Prince; and each Archangel was given a diadem as a symbol of that title. Each diadem was metal with inlaid gemstones; each was different in content and design. Only Michael had the silver/ruby combination; the ruby was a cabochon oval  - a large center stone flanked by two smaller stones. This was used by Michael to create and channel power forces of energy through the perfect ruby crystal.  During a major battle against invading demons, Michael’s diadem was destroyed – disintegrated by the massive destructive power that had destroyed the demon horde, but also destroyed the large ruby and silver band. The diadem was never replaced; and God told him that when Michael was given his diadem again, it would be given to him by his successor.



Mihdael does not know about this legend. //

***

Her spirit hovered in the clouds, as she gazed out over a fully inhabited Eden.


//TO BE CONTINUED...//